Barely a Century
by Mistress Sezza
Summary: It was barely a century, miniscule in comparison to the lifespan of a god, but it was worth every second... One-shot. WARNING: Major character death


_So I dreamt this at 4 in the morning and had to sit up and write it immediately. So any mistakes are due to my sleep-addled brain :P_

_Thanks for reading!_

* * *

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" She reached out her hand to the clear, blue sky. It was small, nails short where she'd bitten them. The sun warmed their little bodies as he stroked the pretty red hair in his lap. He liked her hair, it felt nice. "Always." He replied.

→→→•←←←

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" She stretched her hand out to the sky. Her nails were long and painted bright colours. He ran his fingers through her bright red hair, it was getting long. He loved the feel of her hair; it made him want to kiss her. "Always." He replied.

→→→•←←←

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" She extended her hand to the cloudless sky. Her nails were long and French-tipped, and he thought it made them look elegant. He curled his own fingers around the strands of her beautiful red hair. It fell all the way down her back now, which made it easy to pull on. He smiled softly as she looked up at the sky with longing, and then looked at him the same way. It made his heart ache. "Always." He replied.

→→→•←←←

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" She offered her hand to the sky. Her nails were shorter, but clean and healthy, and his eyes were always drawn to the gold band around her finger that made his heart swell with pride. He tangled his fingers in her soft red hair. It was short now, but that was okay as his daughter's was getting long. He stroked hers too as she lay fast asleep, curled around his hip. His beautiful girls. "Always." He replied.

→→→•←←←

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" She flung out her hand to the sky. Her nails were short and chipped from hard work and daily life. He intertwined his fingers in her red hair and admired its sweet strawberry scent. He watched his daughter play in the field before them and admired the way her long red hair blew in the breeze, so much like her mother's. "Always." He replied.

→→→•←←←

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" She opened her hand to the pale sky. Her hands looked weathered now, the skin on the back beginning to wrinkle. He wove his fingers in her short red hair, now peppered with streaks of silver, though still as soft and lovely as ever. It was just the two of them again. He looked softly upon the face of his love. "Always." He replied.

→→→•←←←

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" She unfolded her hand to the darkening sky. Her hands had developed a few age spots now and her nails no longer grew past their beds. He coiled his fingers around strands of her hair; it was much shorter now but still curled prettily about her face. It had become a darker red now, but he hoped that when his granddaughter's hair grew, it would be the vibrant red he loved. His daughter was bringing the newborn to visit again tomorrow. He watched the sky with his love and smiled. "Always." He replied.

→→→•←←←

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" She lifted her hand to the blue sky. They sat on the swinging lounge he had built on the edge of the field as she no longer had the mobility to lie in his lap on the grass. He had a grandson now too, and when he walked the young boy down the street, with their matching black floppy hair and green eyes, people often thought they were father and son. One hand played with the hair at the nape of her neck; it was almost completely grey now. He pulled her close and felt her frailty and his heart clenched in his chest. "Always." He replied.

→→→•←←←

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" Her hand trembled as she tried to grasp the sky, and he entwined his long fingers in hers and leant her his strength. Her voice was scratchy now with a lifetime of use and her wavy grey hair was thinning. He stroked it with a gentle hand. He held her close and pressed a kiss to the top of her head. He looked down at her with bright green eyes full of love. She would always be beautiful to him. "Always." He replied.

→→→•←←←

"Do you ever wish you could fly, Loki?" Her breath rattled in her chest and her hand grasped his weakly. They had all come; they all stood by her side, surrounding her with family and love. He noticed his daughter's vibrant hair was also beginning to streak with silver. His granddaughter was married now. Her husband wrapped his arm around her in comfort and he wondered how long before he held his first great-grandchild. He would outlive them all, and in that moment, he cursed his existence. Her hair had grown long again, thinned and curly. With great tenderness, he lifted her into his arms to carry her outside and lie together beneath the sky one last time. The blue sky was clear and perfect, and the sunset had begun to spill brilliantly across the western horizon. "I love you Loki." She whispered. "My darling Natasha, I love you too, always." He clutched her to his chest as she lay in his lap once more and pressed kisses to her forehead, her nose, her cheeks; his tears flowing freely. And as she took her last breath in the arms of the man she loved, his heart shattered, forever irreparable.

Darkness fell and his family moved inside to mourn, but he stayed. He stayed with her and held her as the stars appeared in the sky and the moon rose to its peak. She lay in his lap and he stroked her hair like days gone by. Tears dripped from his jaw but he was numb to them. "I wish I could fly to where you are." He told her, he told the night, he told the sky. "My darling, my love." His voice trembled and broke; the pain in his chest so complete that he wished nothing more than to rip his own heart out and join his love. A sob wracked his body as he cradled her close.

"Always." He replied.


End file.
